


Telegraph Road

by SineadRivka



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death: Ambassador Spock, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, More tags to be added, Multi, OT4, Polyamory, Post-Star Trek Beyond, T'hy'la, anxiety attack, bondmates, eventually, polyamory parenting, so I wrote it, these four dorks wouldn't leave me alone, this is a braindump type of fic, tw: anxiety, tw: anxiety attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9946775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SineadRivka/pseuds/SineadRivka
Summary: There was much to be thankful for among four of theEnterprise'ssenior crew. This was especially true as the five-year mission commenced, giving them the time together that they needed to figure out their new balance not only as four equal lovers, but also as four dedicated partners in a solid relationship. After the events of Altamid and Krall's rampage, Jim faces a hearing ahead of what every Captain who loses their ship faces: a court-martial for catastrophic loss of Starfleet Property. We join the crew as Jim arrives home . . .AU concept: Jim and Spock were being courted away to different corners of the universe for different purposes, despite everyone knowing that you don't separate bondmates. Yorktown wanted Kirk, New Vulcan wanted Spock. McCoy and Uhura love giving them The Look, reminding them that they'd be bored in a stationary location.Re-titled to "Telegraph Road" by Dire Straits (Mark Knopfler). See notes on Chapter 2.





	1. Sunfall

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my first time trying to write poly, but it will be my first time trying to write poly parenting. I'm a real sucker for kidfic, because I love how kids bring out the personal sides of the _Enterprise_ crew versus the professional personas that they have worked hard to implement into their lives.
> 
>  
> 
> **WARNING: A character experiences an anxiety attack in the first few hundred words. The first large paragraph signals the end of the attack, and the beginning of the aftercare.**

James Kirk sighed, leaning against the closed door behind him, eyes closed against the sight of people in the sitting room. The rustling of cloth and a soft set of footsteps were the only warnings that he got before he was gathered into strong arms that smelled of bourbon and antiseptic. A low voice growled by his ear, “Darlin’?”

“They waived the court-martial. ‘Extenuating circumstances,’ they said.” Jim lowered his head onto Leonard’s shoulder. “They’re reconfiguring the next Constitution-class to be the _Enterprise’s_ successor, complete with serial numbering.” He shuddered, squeezing eyes shut, his voice lowering further. “They’re _giving_ her to me, Bones. To _me_. Of all people. After all the _shit_ I’m capable of.”

“Aw, darlin’, of course they’re giving ya another ship.” Bones squeezed his lover tight, pressing a kiss to the smooth neck. His emotions thickened the smooth Georgia accent. “You deserve somethin’ fer all the work ya put in to the crew. An’ y’ _know_ that I’m coming with you again.”

Jim felt a hand snake around the back of his neck, thick-fingered and heavy. A feeling of alien calm pressed against his mind, and Jim reached out to wrap his arm around Spock’s torso, careful of the still-healing wound in his side. The Vulcan’s calm voice seemed to wrap felted comfort around his still-shocked mind. “You are worthy of the new ship, Jim. Even if you had only saved the crew, a court-martial would be a useless endeavor. In that you also saved the Yorktown, it would be poor public relations on the universal level to penalize you for the loss of the _Enterprise_.”

The youngest captain in the fleet groaned almost inaudibly, beginning to tremble.

The two men fairly dragged Jim over to the couch, settling him down and manhandled a heavy crochet blanket around his shoulders. As Yorktown dimmed its lights into its artificial twilight, Jim felt the anxiety attack begin to ease. The close heat of his CMO and First Officer bracketing him, the weight of the blanket over his shoulders, and the smell of spiced chai. Opening his eyes, he rubbed at his eyebrows. “How long?”

“Thirteen-point-three minutes,” Spock replied, skimming his hand through Jim’s hair. “Your shortest since the events of Altamid.”

It went without saying that most members of the crew of the _Enterprise_ had a diagnosed mental illness or three. With the normalization of treatments in the twenty-second century, it wasn’t frowned upon for even a highly-publicized captain to succumb to anxiety attacks. Most of the senior crew had PTSD, and all of them spoke with a therapist at least once a week. Spock spoke with two, one human psychologist well-phrased in Vulcan mental practices, and a Vulcan mind-healer who was bonded to a human and had studied human psychology as a second career. Sometimes the sessions were one-on-one, and sometimes all three debated and flat-out argued with emotions running high. Those were some of the most productive sessions for identifying Spock’s cognitive dissonances.

Nyota walked out of the kitchen carrying the tea. She, out of the rest of the bridge crew, was the best at timing Kirk’s anxiety attacks. Setting the tray of mugs down, she weaseled her way between Jim and Leonard, curling up against her captain’s side and sighing, tossing a leg over his lap. Spock’s free hand rested on her ankle. McCoy grumbled about females taking his place, and she smiled up at him, reaching up to pull his face down to kiss his cheek. “Sometimes it takes a female’s touch. Hush.” Turning back to Jim, she whispered, “You were amazing out there. You brought as many of us home as you could.” 

Jim disentangled his arms from the homemade blanket, wrapping them around Uhura’s waist and dropping a kiss to her shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Come on, then, farmboy. Tea, then strip out of that uniform.”

“What, you have plans for me?” he teased, voice still rough with emotion. He reached out to hand her a mug before he took his own. The tea smelled like Christmas morning, laced with milk and sugar.

“Yeah. A shower and into some casual clothes. Spock has a meeting with some Vulcan officials, and they requested his significant others.” She left her leg resting on Jim’s lap, leaning back against Leonard’s shoulder, feeling his lips press against her neck affectionately.

Jim sighed, sipping at the comfort drink. “This can’t be good.”

Spock’s apprehension drifted over the other three before he slammed shields into place and closed his eyes. “I fear that it is in relation to Ambassador Spock’s passing.”

“What, and making baby Vulcans?” McCoy growled. “I’d love to see what New Vulcan is going to try to do to court you away _this_ time.” He shoved gently at the back of Jim’s shoulder. “Up. Strip. Shower.”

“Jeezus, Bones,” the Captain grumbled, but he was grateful for the familiar gruff nature of his CMO. It helped ground him when the anxiety waned. He put the tea down long enough to gently shuffle Nyota’s legs off of his own, draping the blanket over the flawless mocha lengths before kicking his boots off and shuffling towards the bathroom with mug back in hand.

The road to the healthiest relationships in his life hadn’t been an easy one. He and Bones had been together since two months into their time at Starfleet Academy. It hadn’t taken long, what with Bones being bisexual, and Kirk being pansexual. They worked together flawlessly both privately and professionally, and despite their semi-open relationship, had become an example to their graduating classes of what relationships in the ’fleet were supposed to look like. Mixing career and significant others was a delicate balance that so often spun out of control.

Then Vulcan happened. And Kirk met Uhura’s boyfriend that she wouldn’t stop hinting about.

And he fell _hard_ for Spock, almost as hard as he’d fallen for Bones. But he wouldn’t dare interfere with what, to all appearances, was a good thing for his communications and science officers. If he could have their friendship, it would be _more_ than enough. So they occasionally double-dated on their infrequent shore leaves, spent off-duty time with the rest of the senior crew enjoying a drink and betting on who was going to win the chess match this time. But after hard missions, it became more and more common for Jim, Len, Spock, and Nyota to crash in the Captain’s quarters to decompress. After the first time, Jim kept dark chocolate available for Spock and at least one bottle of berry brandy for Nyota.

Maybe that was when she had started courting him and Bones. It was difficult to say.

Jim put the mug down on the bathroom counter to begin pulling off his dress uniform, carefully replacing it on one of the several hangars that kept making their way into the large bathroom. Without pausing between kicking his boxer-briefs off, he grabbed the chai, turned the water on nice and hot in the large shower, and let his eyes drift closed again. One of his first therapists after Tarsus had encouraged a multi-modal approach to coming back into himself after an attack. And now, it was so much easier after the years of practice. The touch of his beloveds, the sound of their voices talking normally, the taste of chai, the bouquet of each individual body and their favored scents, and the sight of at least one of them holding onto his hand or leg.

He wasn’t the only one with anxiety attacks, though his were back to being milder than when he and Bones had first gotten together.

Nyota fought.

Bones shook.

Spock wept.

When Kirk had woken up after Khan, he had almost cried at seeing Spock’s relieved smile. Bones fussed, as usual. And Nyota had walked in with hot drinks for herself and the other two, she had put the travel-tray down almost too hard on a countertop, darting over to press her hands to either side of Kirk’s face, tear rolling down her face before she kissed him hard on the lips and sobbed into his shoulder.

Jim hadn’t known what to do, until Spock had easily maneuvered Nyota onto the bed beside Jim and helping his weak arms wrap around her slender form. The Vulcan let his lover cry herself out while rubbing her back with long strokes. Jim rested his cheek against her forehead, making eye contact with Spock’s human gaze. Bones sat on Jim’s other side, his gentle healer’s hand curling around Jim’s work-roughened one. And Spock . . . Spock started a habit that they would realize soothed them both. Spock began gently playing with Jim’s short hair, daring to touch the top curve of one rounded ear only occasionally.

Jim fell asleep, unable to keep consciousness for long, but was surprised to wake up in the middle of the night with a startle, only to feel that Nyota hadn’t moved. She woke when he had, eyes swollen and bleary, but stroked his face until he fell asleep again.

As soon as he had been released to Bones’ home care, he had invited Nyota and Spock to stay with them if they wanted to and if they were okay with helping him with his rehabilitation. He was practical, and knew that he would either have to deal with visiting nurses to supplement McCoy’s care, or have close friends help him to the bathroom and around the house.

They hadn’t even glanced at each other, answering in the affirmative before Jim could finish his question. The first time that Spock had helped him shower had been awkward thanks to a boner that wouldn’t fucking go away. But Bones had been attending to an emergency case, and Nyota wasn’t comfortable with him being entirely naked. He hadn’t made any eye contact with Spock the entire shower, which was made harder because he was on a shower stool. The Vulcan had been professional all the way through, handing him the cleaning supplies for his genitalia before stepping out and drying himself off. Once Jim was finished, Spock helped him dry off before slipping into clean boxers and an old t-shirt.

That shower had been one of the turning points.

Jim’s shame revolved around the facts that he couldn’t keep his body from reacting to how attracted he was to Spock, and he was unable to shield his desire from the touch-telepath. He had been led to the couch and wrapped up in blankets, where Nyota sat on the coffee table in front of him. Her eyes were soft, and her hand was gentle upon his cheek. “You know that Spock and I are in a committed relationship.”

“Oh Jesus, you have a _bond_ ,” Jim whispered, the blood draining from his face and his shame intensifying as he realized that Nyota knew exactly what had been going on in the shower. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I could turn this off, I would, because you two are so good for each other, and—”

“Jim,” she laughed, and that struck him dumb. “Jim, I’m not mad. You’d have to be asexual to not be sexually attracted to Spock.”

“Your use of flattery is unnecessary but appreciated,” the Vulcan stated, settling on the couch beside Jim. His voice had been warm with pleasure at her compliment.

She shook her head and opened her mouth before she was cut off by Bones in the doorway to the guest suite, still damp from a quick refresher after his emergency shift. “Oh, so he’s confessed?”

“He had a boner all the way through his shower with Spock and was blushing and bashful about it all,” Nyota spilled, grinning and reaching her hand over to grasp Jim’s knee as Leonard walked over and took Jim’s side. Spock slid into place to bracket the younger man between them. 

Len smiled, leaning in to kiss his lover’s cheek tenderly. “I know you’ve been lusting, and I’m pretty sure that Ny’s known that you’ve been lusting, too. Body language and all.”

“I’ve been taking personal amusement in watching you stumble over yourself to stay proper friends with us.” She leaned closer, her gaze warm and unexpectedly open. “But I have to know, from your own self, about you and I before I’m okay with you and Spock having some fun.”

Jim felt his mind stutter before he whispered, “Anything you want from me, it’s yours. Nyota, you’re brilliant, you’re beautiful, and I know that you and I got off on the wrong foot. I don’t want to screw up the friendships we’ve worked hard on.”

“Are you attracted to me?”

“Absolutely.”

“And to Spock?”

He blushed again. “I’m pretty sure that’s been explained already.”

“And what would you say if I was interested in your boyfriend?”

McCoy’s jaw dropped, and Jim grinned broadly. “That I’m more than all right if you wanted to fuck him through the mattress.”

“And what if what Spock and I want more than just sex with both of you?”

Jim sobered, and looked to McCoy. They might not have been telepathic, but old conversations came back to the forefront of their minds, and their eyes locked firmly before they nodded at each other. Jim answered, “Then we need to really sit down and have a longer talk about this when I’m a little closer to being back on my feet.”

“You could use that third appendage as a tripod, you know,” Uhura teased.

He groaned, head falling into his hands. “Yeah, but I barely have the stamina to get from the bed to the couch in the bedroom.”

“And if I wanted you to just lie there while I take my pleasure from your body?” Nyota’s voice lowered, husky and sultry.

Jim’s breath escaped him in a whine.

“And if I wanted to watch Spock take you while Len rode you and you put those pretty lips to use while I sat on your face?”

He forgot how to breathe.

Even Leonard looked stunned.

Spock rested his hand on Jim’s shoulder. “My beloved has been planning for months to see if we four were compatible for the long term. We were waiting for a good time to approach yourself and Leonard.”

And Nyota’s voice went low with pain, “And I realized that I didn’t want to waste any more time.”

Jim opened his eyes in the shower, finishing off his chai and breathing the steam in deeply. They survived Nero. They survived Khan. They survived Krall. They might not have forever, but after that first week together, after they fell into place in each other’s lives in a way that left them all feeling more complete . . . They could survive whatever the New Vulcan delegation had for them. 

Drying off and walking to the bedroom naked amid Bones and Nyota’s catcalls, feeling Spock’s intense gaze travel along his body, Jim was ready to face the public again. He slid into casual clothing, leaving his favorite leather jacket open over a plain t-shirt. As soon as he had walked back out to the trio on the couch, he was enveloped by Nyota’s crushing hug. Laughing, he wrapped arms around her and picked her up before falling onto the loveseat with her on top of him. Spock snorted, shaking his head. “We have fifteen minutes before we have to meet with the emissaries.”

“Awww,” Jim whined playfully. But he reached two fingers out to Spock, who completed the gesture and gently rolled Nyota to her feet, only for her to disappear into the master bedroom. She and Spock had consolidated their items into Jim and Leonard’s much larger apartment, which had worked out wonderfully. Jim took up three drawers, with only his uniforms taking up some hanging space in the massive closet. 

It was debatable if Spock or Nyota had more clothing hanging up in there. Several of Spock’s robes and handmade clothes were carefully preserved for special occasions, as they were from Vulcan-That-Was. Speaking of, Jim was shocked that Spock was not wearing formal robes, instead dressing in what appeared to be a fusion between Vulcan and Human styles that had come back into vogue. “Huh. Thought that you’d dress up to impress these folks.”

One silken eyebrow raised in warning. Then came the sass. “As I have yet to find any of the previous summons to be worth the effort of wearing all my robes and regalia of office and birthright, I simply preferred to err on the side of comfort.”

“Is your dad going to be there?”

“I believe so.”

“Is that why you’re wearin’ the outfit he gifted ya with?” Leonard asked, stretching his arms above his head before shoving hands onto his hips.

Nyota strode out of the bedroom, and Jim whistled. “Oh, God. So that was the _negligee_ underneath _that_ whole getup?”

Spinning in place, the brightly-patterned fabric ruffling and flaring out theatrically, Nyota grinned. “No, that wasn’t part of anything.” She looked slyly at Spock, who tried to suppress a sigh, but failed and shook his head. Raising her own head in success, she added, “We’re about as antithetical to Vulcans as you can get.”

“And while Nyota is still considered my primary bondmate by Vulcan laws and tradition, it seems most odd to the Elders that I ‘allow’ her to get away with wearing her own traditional clothing that seems garish by traditional design standards.” He allowed a smirk in the privacy of their home. “Truly, they do not grasp our concept of four fully-equal partners in relationship with one another with no primary bondmate among us.”

“God, you keep talkin’ like that, an’ I’m gonna be real sore tomorrow,” Bones teased, holding his arm out for Nyota like the gentleman he was. “Can I _please_ escort her in while you and Jim walk in behind us holding hands? Just this once?”

“Bones, Sarek will disown Spock,” Jim protested, shaking his head. “But I’d love to see how they react to you and Nyota acting so cozy.” He opened the door for his family, his partners, getting a kiss from Bones, a swat on the hip from Nyota, and a hand brushing against his own and sending gratitude for understanding Spock’s dislike for PDA. He grinned to himself, following the three people he loved the most in the universe, wondering how in the hell he could have gotten so lucky with them all.

~*~

Sarek actually looked mildly uncomfortable when he greeted his son outside of the Vulcan consulate. That was the first thing that struck McCoy as odd. Without a word, they were ushered into a private room off to the side of the main atrium. Once the door was closed, Sarek nodded to his son. “I am aware that the reasons behind this meeting have remained clandestine. However, I would warn you all that there is much at stake here.”

“Father, is it in relation to Ambassador Spock’s passing?” Spock asked, his voice low and respectful. Sarek had worked closely with Ambassador Spock in the last few years, and the two had grown close. Spock had known that it had brought great healing to his counterpart’s katra, and was happy to share his father with his other, older self. 

Sarek nodded once. “I am aware that you have received his possessions, as he willed them to you. There was a matter of greater importance, however, that took longer to work through the legal process. Many of the Council of Elders have traveled here for today’s conference with you and your bondmates.” He nodded to Jim, making eye contact. “James, you must take on dual roles today, more than any other of your family. You must stand as Spock’s _t’hy’la_ , equal in all ways, but also as his Captain. There are going to be decisions that only you can make in regards to the _Enterprise_.”

“So what will happen here today will affect my ship?” Jim asked softly.

“Yes.”

Crossing arms across his chest, the man drew in a deep breath and nodded. “All right. Bones, Ny?”

“We’re good,” McCoy replied, tugging once on the hem of his jacket. The doctor made eye-contact with their Vulcan hub to their universe, receiving a nod in return. Nyota raised her head as primary mate, adopting a regal posture that any Vulcan female would deny experiencing jealousy over.

Spock turned towards his father. “Please, lead the way.”

As they were lead through the embassy, thoughts were swiftly passed in burst messages between the four Starfleet officers. They shifted their order once under the guise of allowing another group of Vulcans pass in the opposite direction. Jim lead the way, with Leonard behind a step and to his left. Nyota had threaded her arm through Leonard’s, showing that perhaps the favorite mate, despite her legal status as Spock’s primary Bondmate, lay with the good doctor. Spock took up the rear.

It was showing solidarity and shrewd military strategy. Spock was the rearguard. It indicated that he could take anything on. Jim was point, able to see and move swiftly, mind primed for tactical analysis and risk assessment. Len and Ny were in the middle, showcased in a way that told other Vulcans that they were treasured, and they were priceless in worth.

Sarek glanced over his shoulder at his son when they reached a set of double-doors. He nodded once, slowly, acknowledging and approving of this strategy. Spock nodded in return.

They entered one of the universal courtrooms, the panel of Elders sitting at the far end. A group of Vulcans sat to one side, leaving the other side bare. Taking their cue from Sarek, the group did not move to sit, unflinchingly enduring the stoic gazes.

T’Pau had made the journey to Yorktown for this meeting.

_Shit is getting real, here,_ Jim sent along the bonds, his face betraying nothing of his sudden nervousness. 

“We thank thee for thy attendance for this meeting,” a minister spoke in High Vulcan, his reedy voice firm. But the translators didn’t know how to account for the ritualized phrase, substituting it with a generic counterpart. Vulcans were picky about which forms of their language they released to the galaxy, and knew of the lack of specific phrasing when speaking High Vulcan, which translated into Vulcan, then into Standard through the universal translators.

Spock and Nyota’s shock rippled to Jim and Leonard, quickly followed by the correct translation: _We are honored by thy attendance to this hearing of custody._

Jim nodded to the Elder, replying in Vulcan. Though he didn’t need to prove anything, it was a way of showing them new facets of Starfleet’s flagship Captain. “It is our honor to have been called, Elder. We come to serve.”

The Elder gestured, and two children walked forward, nervously glancing at Spock before looking down again. Bones stiffened, biting his tongue lest he speak out of turn. But the other three had already noticed what he had.

They had Spock’s eyes.


	2. Moonrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My husband was playing a live version of "Telegraph Road" by Dire Straits while I was editing this chapter. The rhythm of the song and the following lyrics finally gave me the title to this work, and it really fit this chapter well:
> 
> But believe in me baby and I'll take you away  
> From out of this darkness and into the day  
> From these rivers of headlights these rivers of rain  
> From the anger that lives on the streets with these names  
> 'cos I've run every red light on memory lane  
> I've seen desperation explode into flames  
> And I don't want to see it again. . .

The four Starfleet officers didn’t move towards the two young children, continuing to stand at a light attention while s. Spock’s gaze carefully picked out maturity markers, putting the two children at no more than four and five years old. They were old enough to have stated a preference in their next custodial guardians, as well as to call for a hearing to seek guardians who could potentially be better-suited to meet their needs. 

“If I may,” Spock opened, easily taking the floor. He didn’t give any of the Vulcans in the room to deny him his voice. “It is clear that these younglings have need to raise concern over their clan-appointed guardian. It is also abundantly clear that they share some of my own human ancestry. I was initially summoned to this meeting by name and not with my bondmates; this leads me to believe that there was either an innocent lack of knowledge of their standing in my life, _or_ there was an intentional insult.” He drew in a deep breath and all-but-snarled, “And _where is their mother_ to stand with them?”

Nyota’s pride swelled across the four-way bond. Two years ago, Spock would have been cowed by so many of these high-ranking members of his father’s society. Now, however, he stood among them with the rank and honor of being one of Starfleet’s prized officers, who saved the most prized Katras of their civilization, and whose own scientific discoveries have been taught in the New Vulcan Science Academy. Even though he held this status, as well as that of the heir of Surak’s clan, there were still some who would find him lacking in some way due to his human mother. Little did the older generation realize that it was Spock’s humanity that often helped control his Vulcan emotions.

“Their mothers were unbonded for unnamed reasons, and abdicated guardianship over the younglings as soon as they were weaned; it was part of their contract with their father. In order to better continue the rebuilding effort, they have volunteered their ability to carry children, spreading genes broadly in a carefully-moderated pattern. You are aware of these methods. The father was . . . eccentric in his methods of raising young Vulcans, and we have had to correct many juvenile behaviors on the journey here.”

Jim didn’t move, but his voice filled the room. He could feel Spock’s temper fraying, and knew that if he didn’t speak, his bondmate would cause a scene. “Would I be correct in assuming that their shared father was one Selek of New Vulcan, an Elder of the clan of Surak?”

Some of the adult Vulcans in the group shifted, clearly chastised before the Elders.

“Well, lookit that. Some folks think that there’s only ‘one true way’ to raise children.” McCoy scoffed, shaking his head. _Spock, this decision is yours; genetically, they’re technically your offspring._

_I feel selfish . . . I want them._

_Isn’t selfish, Spock,_ Jim replied, cold blue eyes trained on the group of increasingly uncomfortable Vulcans.

Nyota followed swiftly on Jim’s mental breath of words. _It’s saving them from being shoved into a mold that they’re not genetically-disposed towards, even if they are three-fourths Vulcan. I think that all three of us are in agreement that we should give a home to them if that is what your heart truly desires. Ask them directly who they want to raise them; I want to see their reactions._

“I address the younglings in question,” Spock turned to face them, not taking a step closer, knowing that he very often could be seen as intimidating to young creatures. He didn’t have Jim’s charisma, Nyota’s motherly compassion, or Len’s gruff-yet-tender healer spirit that shone through the hazel eyes. “If I am not mistaken, and if the responses made by the clan-members you have arrived with can be trusted, you are Elder Selek’s children.”

“We are,” the older of the two replied in a clear voice, his gaze almost confrontational. Spock knew that look, and had often used it in the past when others had challenged him upon his human ancestry.

Spock nodded once, and the acceptance seemed to put the two children at ease. “Did you petition for me by name to be your guardian, younglings?”

“Yes, we did,” the younger replied, struggling with his emotional expression. “Our mothers carried us but do not want to raise us. Even though there is a verbal welcome to all races following the IDIC, it is clear by the responses from other Vulcan children and adults that we are considered ‘lesser’ for possessing up to a quarter of human genetics. This is illogical, and an unacceptable emotional response. Race purity is a recipe for poor genetic decisions, leading to inbreeding.”

 _I like him. Spock, I’m keepin’ him,_ McCoy chortled over the bond.

“Indeed, this is one such outcome if the species in question continues to breed only within specific family lines, which was a concern in Surak’s time.” Spock gestured towards his three mates. “Are you aware that I am not bonded to one mate, but to three individuals?”

Little eyes widened, and both younglings shook their heads.

“Do you wish to continue your petition with the Elder that I adopt you and raise you as my own blood and flesh despite not participating in what is considered a ‘normal’ family unit?”

“Yes,” they chorused, voices stronger.

Spock turned to his mates. “James, I call thee and upon thy wisdom as my _t’hy’la_ and my Captain.” Jim took two steps forward, joining Spock, but didn’t speak. “ _K’diwa_ , though we are without our ship at this time, your words have weight in this decision. Our duties to Starfleet, to the Federation, to our crew, to our families and friends, all that must be weighed. Your mind and ability to make these types of decisions surpasses my own.”

 _Well, if they weren’t scandalized before, they sure are now, Spock,_ Uhura commented, her hand still held in the crook of McCoy’s arm. _Saying that a human is better than a Vulcan, acknowledging that a Vulcan has friends . . . I’m proud of you._

Jim took a moment to work through everything possible. There would be challenges, yes, but the rewards would be worth it. Helping two young people who were determined not to remain within a status quo was something that spoke clearly to him. And so, with a deep breath in, he looked up at Spock. _We’re keeping them. I’ll address them._

Spock nodded his head once, and Jim broke Vulcan tradition, walking over to the two young petitioners and crouching to be closer to their eye-level. “I know Spock’s heart and guard it jealously. That is my privilege as his _t’hy’la_. I am able to speak from his heart in many ways that the Vulcan people do not see as proper, as I am human and don’t hold to all Vulcan societal norms. In our family, when we are not on duty, we don’t care for pomp or circumstance. We don’t want to sit here and hem and haw and make you prove that you want this change in your life. You don’t _have_ to prove anything to us. We open our home to you, our hearts to you. It would be our honor to support you, teach you, guide you, and love you.”

“But . . . a spaceship is not often thought of to be the best place to raise a child,” the four-year-old whispered.

Jim smiled at the little one, his blue eyes sparkling reassuringly. “Only at a handful of times. But even with some of the more dangerous missions, it is no more dangerous than living on a colony world.”

The siblings looked to one another, then back to the Starfleet officers.

“We are welcomed, and we accept your invitation to join your house.”

Jim smiled broadly, standing and seeing the dark chocolate eyes brighten with some alien emotion that hovered between hope, delight, solemnity, and pride.

Sarek stepped forward, voice firm. “I sponsor these younglings into my son’s house. Any who wish to contest their place in my lineage may challenge me directly.”

Silence, save for the shuffling of a few robes. To challenge Sarek, publicly or privately, would be social suicide. The man guarded his family jealously. 

The Elder nodded. “It is decided. The elder is thus named Velekh _cha_ ’Spock; the younger is thus named Turak _cha_ ’Spock. Both are now listed as the House of Surak, co-heirs in right and in blood. It is done.”

~*~

The new family beat a quick retreat to their apartment. Sarek closed the door after everyone was inside, grateful to have avoided much of the media on their return. He released a breath and resisted the urge to rub at his temple. He felt a hand touch his arm, guiding him down into a seat and a cold glass of water pushed into his hands. Looking up, he nodded his thanks to Leonard, who smiled in return. In the human vernacular, it was good to have a doctor son-in-law. Jim sat the two children on the couch, each with a ceremonial glass of water to welcome them into his home. With another smile, and ruffling his hair, he took seat on the floor before them in a cross-legged position. Nyota sat to one side of the children, and Spock took the other. Len sat on the coffee table, pulling one ankle up to rest it upon the opposite knee.

“So. Velekh and Turak, then?”

They nodded.

Jim smiled broadly. “So why name Spock as your desired guardian?”

“He . . . is genetically identical to our _a’nirih_ , and even though his life has been different, if he was anything like _a’nirih_ , we knew that he would raise us wisely.” Velekh glanced around at the group. “We had to make this decision swiftly, to prevent our placement in a community home. No true Vulcans wish for us to sully their bloodlines, so we would be separated, and may not have ever left the home for orphans. We tried to contact Ambassador Sarek, but we were told that he did not have time to speak to children.”

“And who is the unfortunate soul who dared speak such lies to you?” Sarek growled. “Though Selek was not of our universe, he remained my son. You _are_ my grandchildren. There was not a single record of your attempt at reaching me when I checked my visitors and communication request logs at the end of the day; I will rectify that error of my aides’ judgement in the morning.”

“Easy, Sarek,” Jim chuckled, looking over his shoulder and smiling at his father-in-law. “Save your ire for the kid you’re probably going to fire.” He turned back to the two little ones sitting on his couch. “Okay. So because this timeline’s Spock is genetically identical to Selek, you feel that he would do as good a job as the old man?”

“Well, maybe not as good,” Turak admitted, blushing.

McCoy barked a laugh, then covered his mouth. “I’m sorry, but that was too cute. Why not as good? Not that I have any lack of faith in my bondmate, but . . .”

“It is logical,” Velekh replied slowly, “that _a’nirih_ had more life experience due to his many years. He did raise us from our first thoughts, melding with us before we could breathe. He knew us very well. It is also logical that it will take time for us to adjust to one another.”

“Well, rule number one that both Spock _and_ Sarek follow is that emotions, especially _Vulcan_ emotions, ain’t be entirely suppressed here.” Leonard’s gruff voice softened. “Especially when it’s dealing with grief. You can express your emotions without allowin’ ’em to control you. And this is comin’ from the most emotional guy in the room. We’re grieving a lot of loss ourselves. Spock and Jim were close with Selek, but there were a lot of losses on our recent mission.”

“Including the _Enterprise_ herself,” the older child murmured respectfully. “I grieve with thee. It is illogical that one think of a ship as a sentient being, but we have heard many stories about the _Enterprise_ of both universes and hearing that she was lost . . . hurt.”

Turak nodded, dark eyes sad. “It was like losing a dear companion.”

Nyota’s gaze darted to Jim, whose blue gaze was welling over with tears. He coughed, trying to speak around the lump that grew there, before shaking his head and looking down at his hands. His voice was thick, filled with gravel when he could finally speak. “Yes. It was.” He found himself with a little Vulcan dressed in somber robes curling arms around his neck, all but falling into his lap. Wrapping the little one into a firm embrace, Jim let his eyes close, hot tears falling and getting lost in the burgundy cloth.

Velekh nodded at the action of his little brother. _A’nirih_ was right in letting them learn how to work with their emotions, expressing them without letting them take over. He looked up to the man who would one day become his _a’nirih_ , but for now, he would simply be called . . . “Would it be acceptable if we called you _sa’mekh_?”

Sarek had to stiffen his face against the flood of pride he felt as he watched his son gently straighten the boy’s hair, affection already offered to the somber younglings. “It would be my privilege and honor if you felt comfortable enough calling me by that title.”

“You _are_ the simplest one to request the title with, after all.” Leaning into the touch, Velekh murmured, “We have a lot of Standard titles for human fathers and mothers.”

“I think that I’ll be simple,” Nyota replied, reaching over to hand Jim some tissues. “But let’s start by what you want to call me. Even if you want to call me Nyota, that is acceptable. I will not take offense if you need time to adjust to our new family dynamics.”

“Well, _ko’mekh_ would be logical, as you are listed as _sa’mekh_ ’s primary bondmate and are his only female bondmate, but we did not know that he had a _t’hy’la_ as well, which makes the household ranking difficult to discern.”

“We do not hold to many of the old traditions, which is to your benefit,” Spock replied, his voice gentle. “We are all equals here, but have various situations where one will out-rank the other.”

“Such as when you are on the Bridge and Jim is the Captain?”

“Or when either of those two end up in my medbay or my kitchen, or when Nyota decides that all three of us are not worthy of spending time around her and she kicks us out so she can get some male-free time with her friends.” Len smiled at the two sets of eyes widening. “We all take turns. It keeps our relationships healthy with each other.”

“And you don’t have to make any decisions tonight,” Jim reinforced, his voice rough with pride and emotions. “Tonight, you can even just call us by name while we have dinner and get to know each other a little more.”

Turak looked over his shoulder at Sarek. “Will _sa’mekh’al_ be staying with us tonight?”

“I would be failing my duty as kin and house patriarch if I left your company tonight, _pi-veh_.” His solemn voice was warmed by the emotion of being called grandfather.

That was the moment that the Starfleet officers knew that the Ambassador was won over and entirely in love with the children.

~*~

Late that night, with Sarek and the little boys sharing the second room, Jim, Nyota, Spock, and Len sat and lounged on their bed. The decision that they were about to discuss could impact the lifespan of their careers.

McCoy was the first to speak, his voice a slow drawl. “So. Last I heard, Starfleet doesn’t think that having kids on a ship is a good idea, but we all know that they’ll bend over backwards to keep their Golden Poster Boy. The question is, how do you think that they’re going to handle this?”

Nyota bit her lip, thinking hard. She shifted and put her foot into Len’s lap, poking at his thigh with her big toe until he picked her foot up and began massaging it. “We’re already straining their interpersonal relationships clauses in some ways. I know that they’re okay with families on their diplomatic corps ships and their non-exploratory crews. Something that has not been high on my list to tell you guys has been some reports of children being spontaneously adopted by officers on some of the other exploratory and Neutral-Zone patrol crews.”

“Really, now?” Jim tugged Spock sideways into his lap, letting the slightly-larger man curl small and sigh against his shoulder. He knew how much the half-Vulcan loved feeling small and getting cuddled. “I know that it wasn’t relevant to our mission, so I understand why it kept getting bumped down the priority line. What sort of kids were they finding?”

“The ones you find on slaver ships,” she replied softly. “So a lot of the circumstances are classified. Some kids were even abandoned on barely-M-Class planets. But there were a lot of mixture of species, so the slavers are acting indiscriminately. Betazoids, Klingons, humans, Orions, Caitians, Romulans, even a couple Vulcans. The children were supposed to be dropped off to their respective peoples, but . . .”

“Klingons saw honor lost, Orions would just sell the kids back into slavery—”

“Betazoid children didn’t want to go back and ‘pollute’ their peers; they felt safer and more able to work with their empathy while surrounded by people who saw trauma on a regular basis.” Nyota sighed deeply. “Vulcan and Romulan children got along very well, and some Vulcan families didn’t want to take their children’s long-lost cousins back with them. The Klingon children were adopted by mixed-race couples, often with at least one human orphan as a sibling. Caitians were drawn back into their family units as if they were simply fosterlings.”

“So you’re saying that Starfleet has been quietly been allowing children to stay with their adopted families on active-duty vessels,” Len murmured, putting Nyota’s left foot down and tapping at her right ankle. She melted into the mattress at the first firm strokes along the arch of her foot.

“Yes.”

Spock shifted, looking at Nyota. “News of our adoption of my counterpart’s children will have reached Starfleet by now.”

“Oh, it did about . . .” Jim reached for his communicator, flipping it open and scrolling through the lines of messages. “Hm. We adopted them at seventeen-forty-five local time, and the first call from Starfleet came in at eighteen-oh-two. I haven’t checked any of my messages, because frankly, I don’t want to deal with how mad some of the Admirals are. That, and we were on leave for the most of the day.”

“They will surely insist that this situation was all your doing, and that it’s just one more ‘publicity stunt’ that they assume they will have to clean up,” Spock grumbled. He felt Jim start to tug lightly at his clothing, gently starting the disrobing process. Eyes slipping shut, the Vulcan let his _t’hy’la_ take care of him, hearing Nyota playfully taunt Len into doing a strip-tease. Quietly, decisions were made and agreed upon, and Jim settled Spock into bed, spooning around him while Ny and Len took off to the master bathroom for a “multitasking shower.” While the master suite had soundproofing, the bathroom within it did not. Sometimes, listening to the activities without participating was enough for Jim and Spock.

Once the voices died down into murmurs, Jim pressed a kiss to the back of one green-speckled shoulder. Over the last few months, he had finally convinced Spock to just wear the lounging pants of his sleeping robes. Vulcans didn’t get freckles . . . but half-Vulcans did, and it was adorable. “You okay?”

“You speak of my initial distress that Nyota found greater peace with Leonard than with myself.”

“Mmhm.”

“It does not bother me as much as it used to. She and I still have our own private relations, as you well know.”

“You didn’t answer me completely, Spock. I know that you feel guilt about how _you_ feel towards me.”

Spock was quiet for a long moment. The guilt was not new to him, but he had been surprised when his bondmates had insisted that he meld with them and really _look_ at how they each felt about their four-way love affair.

Jim and Len had long worked out a partially-polysexual relationship that relied heavily upon verbal communication and planning if they really wanted to have sex with a third party. Neither man had been interested in adding anyone long-term into their relationship until Jim fell hard for Spock. Len hadn’t blamed his partner, simply pushed Jim into being honest with himself. They knew that affection wasn’t always steady, and often became stagnant at times, for no reason. But they were as close as could be without being married. In the early days of their assignment on the _Enterprise_ , Spock hadn’t discerned that they were more than very close friends . . . until he walked in on them sharing a water shower. Leonard still teased Spock about that emerald blush at seeing him boning Jim at a furious pace, the blonde biting a washcloth to muffle the constant moans.

Leonard was interested in Spock, but not with the same blind love and rabid drive that Jim was so often capable of. And yet he knew that Jim’s heart was so much bigger than what one person could handle. He and Jim kept a very close relationship, even as Jim and Spock’s relationship was heating up. Len knew that Jim felt safe with his three partners, even if he and Nyota only occasionally made love. They were better verbal sparring partners and filled something indescribable in each other’s lives. There was the occasional sexual desire there, and real love, but nothing burning the way that Jim and Len and Jim and Spock shared.

Then there was Spock and Nyota. What a bonfire it was to watch her tear his Vulcan control to shambles, and Jim loved watching it every time. Their love was wild, untamable, and it left both Jim and Len breathless. The first time that the four were making love in the same place, each with their initial primary partners, Jim and Len had actually stopped to watch what Nyota could do to Spock. It was a moment of breathless laughter when she was able to speak again, demanding that since _they_ got a show, it was about time that she and Spock got the same treatment. Spock and Nyota had a love and a passion born of long years of companionship, longer than Jim and Len’s own romance.

Nyota had felt guilt when she realized that it was the Southern Doctor’s large hands and gentle smile that she felt a greater draw towards, rather than the alien telepathic touch of her bondmate and lover. But it was something that Jim, of all people, mediated between herself, Len, and Spock. He had walked her through what he and Len had already walked through with other people they had encountered in their relationship. There was this beautiful Betazoid who Len had spent six months with, leaving Jim’s bed a little chilly at times. But Jim knew that everything would turn out all right in the end. She had a deadline, and was going to be going back on assignment at the end of her teaching rotation through Starfleet Academy.

So Jim knew how to help Ny not feel guilty, especially since he had teased Len into a blush, knowing that the man he loved and trusted was falling heavily for the slim woman. He knew that of all four of them, it was Len that was the most ready to have children, and Nyota was a swift second. Jim was a starship captain, and wasn’t sure that he could balance raising young family members with his duties. Spock was unsure of his ability to parent, due to the often-estranged relationship he had experienced with his own father. But Jim had encouraged them to understand that he certainly didn’t feel slighted. Spock had added that he was grateful that Len (and sometimes Jim) were able to give to Nyota much of what he knew he couldn’t provide.

And that left Spock, feeling guilty that he couldn’t provide what he thought his humans needed.

That had all changed when they bonded with him as their hub. There was no marriage as close, no friendship as fulfilling, as when the four bonds had finally settled into place, three days before they had shipped out on their five-year mission.

Spock realized as they lay in a tangled heap, each trying to catch their breath, that he shouldn’t have harbored such anxiety. His three humans loved him in unique ways, just as he loved them uniquely. Nyota loved him deeply, but loved Len passionately, and loved Jim with a wildness that the blonde was able to sate. Len loved Jim endlessly, loved Nyota passionately, matching her own love for him, and loved Spock gently. Spock loved Nyota with all of what he had thought his heart was, but also loved Len with a softness that the doctor secretly treasured. Jim loved Len more than he could have ever said in words, loved Nyota fiercely. But what Jim and Spock shared was indescribable. They had wept when they bonded, inconsolable until hiccuping and exhausted. When their eyes were swollen and their breathing only hitching minutely, they could hear the soothing words and sounds from their other lovers bracketing their embrace. Nyota was happy to feel the place within Spock’s heart that she could never touch finally be filled by someone’s love.

“I feel considerably less guilt, my James.” He turned his head and kissed the precious forehead, two fingers tracing Jim’s temple. “It is a process, as I had been raised with the concept of a two-person romantic unit being a societal norm. There is much that I am still learning about my experience with three human lovers and bondmates.”

Jim caught the hand and kissed the pads of those two fingers, combining human and Vulcan kisses. “And we thought that Len and Ny would have given us all some kids first. Naw, you had to do that for us.”

Spock smiled in the twilight of their room. The two people in question shuffled back to bed, sated and clean, wearing the bare minimum of clothing for sleep. From the touch of their minds, neither wanted to get much in the way of conversation. Nyota slipped into Spock’s arms, while Len moved to be the biggest spoon, pinning Jim between his chest and Spock’s back. With some creative shuffling and the use of various pillows, the four lovers slipped into their first truly restful slumber since they had stopped over on the _Yorktown_ for a resupply.


	3. Daybreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pride Month! Have some SAGA Space-Spouses. (Sexuality And Gender Acceptance)

It was not to soft touches of a lover that morning brought, but a small hand gently resting upon Nyota’s clothed shoulder. She blinked herself awake, looking over her shoulder to see Velekh pulling his hand back, unsure of if he had overstepped his boundaries. Raising her hand in the greeting of one family member to another, she was gratified when the five-year-old completed the motion with a light dusting of a green blush across his cheeks.

“Good morning, _ko’mekh_.”

“Good morning,” Nyota whispered back, smiling warmly. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes. _Sa’mekh’al_ and _ko’mekh’il_ have prepared breakfast, as they are our guests and wished to begin the day traditionally.”

It took a moment before Ny realized just _who_ the grandmother was. She spun over, swatting the three shoulders of her mates. “Up! Get dressed! T’Pau and Sarek just made breakfast!”

With a flurry of movement (and all adults were grateful that they had the foresight to wear something covering their genitalia), the three men were up and swarming to their respective clothing locations before Spock grunted and Jim and Len moved over to where he stood. Nyota had just enough time to stand up before she was caught casual robes tossed to her by Spock, who was sliding into his own robes. She moved to settled Jim’s robes around his shoulders, tying the traditional knots of _t’hy’la_ around his waist while Spock tied a deceptively-loose knot around Len’s waist that indicated _beloved_. Ducking into the closet to change, she heard Jim distract Velekh. “Do I look appropriate for just waking up?”

“Your hair is rather . . . unkempt.”

“Hm. It doesn’t behave like Vulcan hair does. Can you help me?”

“It is unlikely.”

Bones guffawed. “My own hair doesn’t like to behave either, kiddo. Guess that we’ll have to just deal with it on our own.”

Nyota stepped out, her robe tied in a knot depicting her as “life-giver.” Spock smiled at her with his eyes and through the bond, his own robe tied into a knot that was simply his rank. Nobody bothered with footwear, as Spock indicated that Velekh take the position of honor to lead the adults back out into the living area.

To many, the sight of T’Pau in casual robes would have caused scandal. But in the house of her great-grandson, it was fitting. She stood beside her grandson, hands folded before her and face bland. “You are late in rising, son of my grandson.”

“I offer my apologies, _pid-kom_ ; I was more in need of rest than meditation.”

“Understandable, and forgiven. It is good that you and your mates were swiftly ready for breaking of the fast.”

“That would be Nyota’s doing.”

“Your bondmates are an asset to our clan and to your life. It is well.” She turned and indicated that they sit to eat. Instead of all sitting together in what would be a customary show of solidarity against another group, the four bondmates instead took random seats around the table. The two children managed to grab seats on either side of Spock, who took a moment to brush Velekh’s hair down from where it fell out of place, and then to lean over and press a human kiss to Turak’s forehead in greeting.

The little one’s eyes welled up.

T’Pau opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when Spock swung the four-year-old into his lap, curling the little one close and pressing more kisses to the little face, catching every tear. He pulled one little hand up against his chin, against the psi-point there for a soft meld, soothing the child with both mind and actions.

Velekh began to cry, looking down at his hands and hoping that his bangs hid his tears. But it was to no avail. He found himself pulled into a warm lap and against a gently-muscled chest, the belled sleeves of the casual robe covering his tears and his shame. An accented voice crooned softly against one ear as he was rocked back and forth. Distantly, Jim’s voice said, “I think we were waiting for this. Please, _pid-kom_ , don’t wait for the younglings to have gathered themselves before enjoying the meal you’ve prepared for us. They’ll join us when they’re ready.”

“Their expressions of emotion is not in compliance with Surak’s teachings.”

“That is true,” Sarek replied as he returned to the table. Reaching around Leonard and Spock, he placed domes over the plates, keeping the children’s food heated and under stasis fields. The technology was outrageously expensive, but in the house of the son of an Ambassador, it was clearly a common appliance. “However, it is important to understand that, like my son, these children have human genetics, and to express their emotions is often healing to their _katra_. I erred once in my wording when teaching Spock about his emotions; it was wrong of me to assume that he must behave as either Vulcan or human when he, in fact, shows a perfect balance of his two heritages.”

Bones leaned his cheek against Velekh’s head. “How’re ya doin’, kiddo?”

“Not good,” he hiccupped.

“Okay. You stay here long as you like, okay?”

“Okay.”

Nyota smiled softly around Spock’s arms, seeing the little flushed face peek out at the sound of fabric shifting. She whispered a soft note of reassurance, placing the tips of her first two fingers against his forehead, tracing a tiny, perfect eyebrow. The dark brown eye closed, trusting her. She settled back with one final caress over the straight black hair before digging into the plentiful buffet dishes.

Sarek loved to cook, and he missed cooking for his human wife. She had made the smallest noises of appreciation at his cooking. When they hosted company, Amanda would often eat silently out of respect of Vulcan culture. The first time she had done this, Sarek had experienced anxiety that the meal he had just helped prepare was unacceptable to both his wife and their guests. She had laughed, eyes lighting up, and insisted that the tableau had “merely” been stunningly perfect, pleasing to all senses. Then, passionate and expressive human that she was, Amanda Grayson had taken her husband to bed to prove her appreciation. That night, neither disappointed the other.

It was good to sit with the humans of his family; their emotions, being so plainly written upon their faces, was a balm to his aching _katra_. James leaned behind him to reach for Leonard’s plate, filling it expertly before passing it back. Manners were disregarded in the familiarity of their home. Leonard then took to eating over his new son’s head, melting with a happy groan at the explosion of Vulcan flavor across human taste buds. Velekh drew back, eyes still bloodshot and watering, but curious at how Leonard chose to express himself. “Mm. Your grandpa sure knows his way around a kitchen.”

“It . . . is not a labyrinth; why would he have to learn how to move around a kitchen?”

“Figure of speech. It means that he knows how to cook, and how to cook _well_. Get yourself a fork, kiddo. Try this.”

“You wish me to share from your plate and not the plate prepared for me by _sa-mekh-al_?” He looked as if the action would cause dishonor on the entire clan _and_ their livestock.

Sarek couldn’t hold back the sharp snort of amusement, but he coughed into a napkin to attempt to show that he was in fact, not expressing his humor. “I would be gratified if you sampled my cooking, no matter which plate it comes from.”

And slowly, slowly, the new family made it through breakfast.

One bite at a time.

~*~

It was quite the happy scandalous rumor, Jim realized as he watched the news try to report on speculation in regards to their sons. The two had fallen into an exhausted nap, soft snores rising from the two dead-to-the-world lumps to either side of Jim on the couch. He had sat and they had turned his lap into their pillows. Bones had already grabbed a candid picture of the trio (complete with Jim leaning his head back against the couch back and holding a PADD overhead to read), which he sent off to Winona. Jim was entirely too thankful for Len; the man knew how to keep a mother-in-law _happy_. He had texted the news to her with the promise of more information as things settled down a bit. And between the four of them, they already had almost sixty pictures in an online album that was shared with Winona. It was ten in the morning. That was twenty photos an hour.

But the gossip was _juicy_.

The boys’ differing skin tones were thought to show that Spock had cheated on Nyota with someone with less melanin in her system. But why would the children only now be coming back to live with their parents?

It was outrageous, and far too sensational to be taken seriously. But it was all the public had, three photos and a quick holo of them hustling into an aircar.

Sarek stopped behind Jim’s head, watching the “news” for a silent moment. Turning his head, he called for the family, which made the human frantically check upon the Vulcan children on his lap. Neither had stirred even a bit, making Jim give Sarek a dull glare. The man shrugged; a very human expression. “If I had told you that my people sleep very deeply as children, you would not have believed me, James. It was logical to skip the first warning and proceed directly to an example. Amanda often called Spock’s sudden need for deep sleep a ‘kitten puddle,’ which she assured me was a normal sight on Earth.”

“That was cruel, Sarek. But she was right.”

“Perhaps. Ah. Observe.”

A padd was rushed onto the newsdesk, and the talking head startled at the first line. “Offical news on the Kirk-Spock household’s children! Breaking and _exclusively_ on this channel!”

“Is it?” Nyota asked with a grin.

Sarek nodded, smug.

“Spock, your father is evil and I’m glad he’s on our side,” Len chuckled, leaning against the back of the couch.

“This is the official announcement from the Clan of Surak, of which Commander Spock of Starfleet is a ranking member. A member of our clan passed away unexpectedly, leaving his two children without a family unit to raise them. Most of the houses in our clan are in diplomatic relations or are fully engaged in the rebuilding project and unable to raise two younglings. As such, the brothers made a formal request to petition Commander Spock for admittance into his family. With his bondmates—” The newscastor stopped, blinked and then continued under his breath, “That man got himself some _good_ damn spouses.” Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “With his bondmates Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, Captain James T. Kirk, and Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy, they welcomed the brothers without hesitation into their household. In this time, we request privacy and a buffer of space for our children to acclimate to the new living situation. Regards, Ambassador Sarek.” He stared at the padd in shock. “Ambassador Sarek wrote this.”

“Oops, he’s fanboying on live signal,” Nyota giggled, leaning over to kiss Jim’s cheek. “And oops, Spock and Sarek didn’t edit out that bonding announcement.”

“Well, getting outed as a healthy dynamic for the sake of raising our kids together . . . not the worst strategy, actually. It’ll probably turn in our favor as everyone tries to figure out when we all started dating.” Jim chuckled, raising one hand to poke her nose.

Spock traced two fingers over Jim’s forehead. “I calculated as much. The odds were unquestionably in favor of your approval. And it will show much to anyone who doubts our abilities to perform professionally while on shift.”

“And it would also explain a lot about how our commanding dynamic has shifted over the past few years,” Jim replied thoughtfully. “There are a couple times where we didn’t balance out so well, but there was mortality on the line. _Anybody_ close to someone about to die gets fucked up.”

“Yeup,” Len replied, still watching the screen. “I’m not gonna say I ain’t nervous, but, uh, you folks keep making this worthwhile, so . . .”

Jim snorted and settled back again, feeling Nyota’s hands start a slow massage of his scalp. “You know better’n’me how much Ny and Spock even the two of us out. Hell, you were less nervous about going into the long-term and called me a commitment-phobe.”

“Jimmy, don’t you start twisting my words on me.” But Spock had gathered Leonard into an embrace, strong arms resting lightly around the doctor’s trim waist, and a chin resting upon a broad shoulder. The slightly-older man sighed and settled into the affection, eyes going half-mast.

That was when it occurred to Jim. “Where’s T’Pau?”

Sarek indicated the screen again, where a more formal “over the desk” meeting was being hastily set up for T’Pau, who was waiting patiently.

Jim looked over to Spock, whose eyes had narrowed ever-so-slightly with a conspiratorial micro-expression. “So. It’s your _great-grandmother_ who we have to watch out for, and your father learned from her classy power-moves.”

It didn’t take long for the clan matriarch (and current de facto voice for New Vulcan) to praise the immediate “logical response for a stable, yet childless, polyamorous family” to take in the two boys. Baby pictures, then school photos, of both Turak and Velekh were shown, followed up with a handful of “personal photographs” that had been taken, including the one of Jim sitting on the couch taken less than an hour before. By the reaction of the news anchor and the commentary highlights coming in from viewers on a sidebar, the public was just _eating_ out of their hands.

The news anchor was astounded by the soft expression on Spock’s face as he was frozen in time leaning down to listen to Velekh’s soft words. “I . . . forgive me, Lady T’Pau, but many being in our universe have assumed Vulcans to be expressionless.”

“We are far from expressionless or emotionless,” she replied serenely, hands folded into the sleeves of her robes. “It is not that we seek to eradicate our emotions, but rather to control their intensity. There is a percentage that seeks to eradicate their emotions for any number of reasons, but it is not a practice that we force any being into.”

“You said that Commander Spock is part of your clan, then?”

“Indeed. He is my great-grandson.”

“Is the rumor true that he had almost stepped out of Starfleet to assist New Vulcan?”

She raised an eyebrow. “He gave it considerable thought and found that it would better serve both his own personal goals and the goals of New Vulcan to remain in Starfleet on the _Enterprise_.”

“It was a bit of a shock reading that he was both married _and_ married to three other officers in the command-level crew of the _Enterprise_. There hasn’t been a hint of a rumor that he and Nyota had opened up their relationship.”

T’Pau remained silent for a moment, considering her next words carefully. “That is not a topic I am at liberty to expand upon. However, the balance between Spock, Nyota, James, and Leonard is an inspiration and a goal for many individuals searching for compatible partners. You will have to ask those individuals to explain their personal decisions directly; misrepresenting them and their intentions would be a grave error to make. Their professional lives are public domain; I’m sure that you will be able to investigate their public mission logs and come to your own conclusions.”

Len whistled after that. “She’s siccing the media on us.”

“Perhaps not,” Spock replied softly. “I believe that she is warning them against baseless speculation and rumors as the public logs are scrubbed quite clean of any confidential material.”

“Starfleet just sent us the list of interview requests that they’ve vetted for us,” Nyota had switched to running one hand through Jim’s hair while she pulled up the list on her PADD. “Five. Wow. They must be having a field day with this.”

Sarek seemed smug, and she turned to him with an open grin. “Let me guess. They sent the first list to you.”

“You would assume correctly, _ko-fu_.”

Turak stirred, looking up at the screen in time to see the first photo of him and his brother with his new family. It was the official photo taken directly after the custody hearing that went into all of their personal identification files. The Vulcans stood as expressionless as possible, but the humans were standing with proud, happy expressions upon their faces. “That is not an accurate photo of our family dynamic.”

“Not our _private_ family dynamic,” Nyota corrected gently. “But certainly our _public _family dynamic. Ah. Look. There’s one that’s a little more accurate.”__

__It was just post-breakfast, after everyone had washed and dressed for the day, sitting around the kitchen table while they worked out schedules for the next few days. Jim was laughing, Nyota was grinning broadly, Len was rolling his eyes at Spock, who was delivering a snarky rebuttal to his doctor, and both the boys were grinning shyly. Velekh had been smiling up at Sarek, who was resting his hand upon the dark head. Turak had been leaning into Jim’s side to try to read what he had started to write into the calendar. Sarek coughed, as T’Pau began to make her closing remarks._ _

__Jim grinned again. “T’Pau sure is sneaky with a camera. That proud and happy look is good for your image, Sarek.” He indicated the side bar commentary again, which was now including a poll on Ambassador Sarek’s popularity and the public’s confidence in his work._ _

__“So it would seem.”_ _

__Stretching and waking up, Velekh’s voice was soft. “Are we going to the zoo today like you said, Jim?”_ _

__Len turned the television off just as T’Pau stood and walked off the screen. “I’ve already packed the bags, kiddos.”_ _

__The twin flurries of excited movements made the five adults smile. It was a good start to the next chapter of their lives._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't want to behave. I've had it mostly-written for months, but it just never seemed to wrap up very well. But I'm glad that the muses finally gave me something to work with. As of right now, this fic is considered finished. I don't believe I'll return to this AU in the future, unless something else comes up. We'll see.


End file.
